


Ye Olde Newcastle

by Meektheraccoon, Purplechimera



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, American Remus Lupin, Collaboration, Drabble, Fanart, Fluff, M/M, Renaissance Faires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:44:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meektheraccoon/pseuds/Meektheraccoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplechimera/pseuds/Purplechimera
Summary: “Wait wait wait. I...hang on.” Remus flicked on his blinker and pulled into a shopping center. He put his car in park, unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to the man in the passenger seat. “You’ve never been to a renaissance festival.”“Er...no.”“I cannot believe it. You’re from England.”





	Ye Olde Newcastle

**Author's Note:**

> a wonderful collaboration!

“Wait wait wait. I...hang on.” Remus flicked on his blinker and pulled into a shopping center. He put his car in park, unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to the man in the passenger seat. “You’ve never been to a renaissance festival.”

 

“Er...no.”

 

“I cannot believe it. You’re _from England_.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes, pushing a lock of black hair out of his eyes. “I don’t see how that is relevant.”

 

“You’re....nevermind. We’re going.”

 

It was Sirius’ turn to look surprised. “You’ve been?”

 

Remus pressed a hand to his chest in outrage. “ _Been_? I go every year!” He turned forward and shift back into drive. “We’re going.”

 

~~~

 

Two days later, Remus’ bed was covered in clothes. “Here, try these,” he thrust a pair of brown leggings at Sirius. “I think they’ll fit you.” 

 

Sirius pulled them on, and then accepted a dark red tunic. A moment later, Remus emerged from his closet and they stood side by side, looking in the full length mirror.

 

“Can you even breathe in that thing?” Sirius asked, resisting the urge to run his fingers over the deep green corset.

 

Remus just smirked. “I’m sure if I faint, you can catch me. Come on, I don’t want to miss the opening ceremony!”

 

~~~

 

“Hear ye, hear ye! Welcome to Newcastle!” Trumpets blared, and a man with puffy sleeves and a matching feather cap stepped out onto the balcony above the gates, unfurling a scroll. He read off the demands of the king, while Sirius kept a running commentary in Remus’ ear.

 

“He doesn’t sound like he’s from Newcastle at all.”

 

“I don’t think Henry VIII would travel this far just for a joust.”

 

“Why are the princesses wearing those ridiculously pointy hats?”

 

Finally, the gates were opened, and Remus dragged Sirius through them. They were accosted by acrobats on stilts, women in torn clothing singing dirty songs, and vendors shouting their wares. Remus scooped a map and pointed.

 

“I want to make sure we see the joust, but here’s the show list if you want to see anything else.”

 

“Meat! MEEEAAAAT!” A large woman with bright purple horns wandered by, holding a tray of jerky. “You boys look like you enjoy meat.” She grinned at them.

 

Sirius glanced at Remus, who did not seem fazed at all-in fact, he was digging through one of the pouches on his belt and pulling out some money. “Two, please. I’d like a teriyaki. Sirius?”

 

Sirius stared, wide-eyed, down at the tray the woman was holding. She tapped the box with her finger. “This here’s original, then teriyaki, then extra spicy.” She leaned toward him conspiratorially. “I wouldn’t go for that one though, if yer plannin’ on takin’ him home later,” she lifted her chin in Remus’ direction, who at least had the decency to blush.

 

“I’ll go with original, thanks.”

 

The woman grinned even wider as she traded their jerky for Remus’ cash, and winked at Sirius as she walked away. “Knew you were a man who liked leather.” 

 

They wound their way through the crowd, munching on jerky and stopping to admire the wares. Sirius was quickly distracted by a leather worker who sold everything from boots to leather book covers. 

 

A tiny woman in a flowy top sat in the corner. “Welcome, sirs! We have almost most designs in most colors, so if you see a combination you want, just ask!” 

 

Remus struck up a conversation with her about the new festival foods while Sirius perused the leather-bound journals. After a moment, he lifted one up. “Excuse me, do you have the lion design, but with a red background?”

 

She disappeared through a door, and emerged a moment later with three journals. 

 

“Oh, I rather like the one with the lion-” Whatever he was going to say next fled his brain, as he glanced up to see Remus bending over to examine something on the bottom shelf. 

 

“You speak the King’s English very well, sir,” the store keep said.

 

“Hmm?” Sirius glanced at her, then looked back at Remus. “There isn’t a king. Philip is the Duke of Edinburgh…”

 

Remus rose, holding a pair of leather boots. “She means King Henry, I think,” he held out the boots. “Here, try these on.”

 

Sirius did so, walking to the mirror to examine them. 

 

The shop keep leaned toward Remus. “He’s rather posh to be wearing pirate boots, don’t you think?”

 

Remus caught Sirius’ eye in the mirror and winked. “Don’t be fooled by his accent. Sirius is definitely a rogue.”

They made their way out with their purchases in tow, grabbed two cups of mead (“Is it really _mead_?” “It’s alcoholic, if that’s what you’re asking”), and headed toward the joust. Remus splurged and bought box tickets, so Sirius ended up sitting between Remus and the princess.

 

“Are they going to really joust?” He whispered as the knights trotted around the arena.

 

“No,” Remus whispered back, “It’s far too dangerous. They do a series of skill tests, and they do use real lances. Just not on each other.” As each contestant was announced, Remus did a little wiggle in his seat. “They’ve not had a woman competitor before. This is exciting!”

 

Sirius couldn’t help but grin at his boyfriend’s excitement, but then the competition started and he was quickly drawn in by the skills of the competitors. “They’re really very good riders!”

 

The princess quirked an eyebrow at him. “Of course they are. They are the finest riders in all the realm.”

 

“No, I-you know what, nevermind.”

 

Remus sniggered.

Afterward, they made their way to the food courts, peering up at the signs.

 

“I always get steak on a stake and ribbon fries. Is there something that catches your eye?”

 

Sirius took in the brightly colored, illustrated declarations of “The King’s Codpiece! A _whale_ of a sandwich!” and “Smoked Turkey Legges!” 

 

“I...guess I’ll try a turkey leg?” He got in the appropriate line, and was handed a drumstick nearly the size of his forearm. By some miracle, Sirius managed to snag a table with an umbrella, and he stole most of Remus’ ribbon fries as they people-watched and commentated on the costumes. They did some more shopping (Sirius found a beautiful dagger from the swordsmith), ate even more food, and made their way toward the last show of the day-The R Rated Show.

 

Three men burst onto the stage, introducing themselves and repeating several times that this was the _R Rated Show_. The one with long curly hair ran into the audience and found a boy who looked about eleven years old. 

 

“Hey kid! Where are your parents?”

 

The boy, eyes wide with terror, pointed to the woman sitting next to him.

 

The performer held up his hand for a high five. “You are a terrible parent. Hey kid-” he turned back to the boy- “I’ve got a question for you. Dumbledore: pitcher or catcher?”

 

The audience roared with laughter, while the two other men yelled “Do you believe it’s a rated R Show now?!”

 

And on it went. The curly-haired one kissed a large mustached man in a cowboy hat. The shortest one took off his shirt and threw it at a group of young women. By the end of it, Sirius’ sides ached from laughing. As they meandered back toward the entrance, he linked his fingers with Remus’, smiling when the other man squeezed back.

 

“A flower for your love, sir?” A young woman was holding out a red carnation, gesturing toward Remus. Without hesitation, Sirius pulled out his last dollar and handed it to her, then turned and tucked the flower behind Remus’ left ear. 


End file.
